


Waking Up

by relic_amaranth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 10:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13074510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relic_amaranth/pseuds/relic_amaranth
Summary: You're feeling upset. Castiel doesn't want you to be alone.





	Waking Up

**Author's Note:**

> An angsty-fluffy Reader/Cas comfort fic with a (hopefully) neutral Reader. Cross-posted to Tumblr. Title taken from a Pvris song.

You hear Cas call your name through the door, but you don’t know what to say. So you don’t say anything. The lights are off and you’re in bed, safe in your own little hovel of a room at this nearly-abandoned motel halfway to nowhere. Why the Winchester’s angel is here is beyond you. You’re pretty sure Dean is still seething about whatever your last shouting match had been about.

Cas calls your name again and you carefully move your body to turn away from the door and window. You wince at the throbbing in your head that starts up again, but otherwise you’re fine. Just. Fine.

Cas knocks. “I know you’re awake. Please open up. Dean is not with me and neither is Sam. I am alone.”

You sigh. “Why?” you ask and hope it’s loud enough to be heard. Cas standing outside and demanding to be let in would be an annoying way to spend the night, but you don’t really want to get up.

“Is that permission to come in?”

There are no angel wards to keep him out as it is and with how sluggish you feel there’s no way you can get out a banishing sigil without him noticing and taking action. Not that you’re worried it will be necessary, but you wonder why he’s bothering to even ask for your go-ahead. “Yeah, whatever.”

A brush of air by your face makes you flinch, but you otherwise remain undeterred by Cas’s immediate presence. Until he leans down next to you, looking intently up and down your body. “You’re hurt,” Captain Obvious Yet Oblivious says and moves to place his fingers to your forehead.

You smack his hand away and hiss at the pain of your broken hand hitting something. “Leave ‘em. I deserve it.”

Cas casts his judgmental eye at the bottle of alcohol on your bedside table and you make a dismissive sound. You’re not even drunk enough to deal with an angel playing peacemaker; he shouldn’t look like that. But he still looks at you, very ‘what am I going to do with you’, and you can’t bring your hand back up fast enough to stop him before he goes ahead and heals you.

“Fuck, Cas, I told you–”

“You were in pain. You deserve no such thing.” Cas’s eyes soften and when you try to turn away, he holds the side of your face to stop you. When he says your name it’s soft, and almost more than you can handle. “Dean wouldn’t tell me what you argued about, but he wants you to know he’s sorry; that he didn’t mean to chase you off.”

“It’s not Dean,” you say and turn away from Cas, curling up in yourself. “It’s just…one of those days. Weeks. Months. Years? Lives?” You swallow a lump building in your throat. “I’m fine, Cas. Tell Dean it’s fine. I’m gonna check out a possible Baykok case nearby and then I’ll…come back.”

“Will you?” Cas asks.

“Yeah.” But the word sounds as hollow as it feels. You don’t hear anything and for a moment you worry that Cas has just taken off. But you can hear him shuffling, moving something and you turn back to see him, stripped of his tie and coat and now pulling off his shoes. “Cas?”

“I will go if you ask.” But he comes to lie next to you and you can’t form the words. You just watch as he takes the small amount of bed between you and the edge and faces you, his lips level with your eyes so that you have to look up. He’s contemplative. Quiet. “But I do not wish to leave you right now. May I stay?”

“Why?” is all you can think to ask. “Why would you want to?”

“You are in pain in a way that I cannot fix.” He presses his hand to your back. “But maybe I can help.”

“But _why_?”

“Because I care,” he says and presses his lips to your forehead. You freeze. You’re not sure what it means but it does…feel nice. That someone cares enough to stay.

“I’ll still be…” You swallow again. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You are fine, just as you are,” Cas whispers. “But you should know…it is all right to cry.”

“I don’t want to cry.” You snuggle closer and Cas holds you close to his body. He breathes and he’s warm and living and real and it won’t fix anything, but maybe it can help. Even just a little. “I just want this.”

“You can have it. As long as you need it.” Cas holds your head so that your head is pressed to his chest, just under his head, and you drift off easily for the first time in weeks.


End file.
